


Static

by cecilantro



Series: 100 Days Of Ficlets [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 18:11:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13816662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: Despite the static in his mind blocking the memories out, Caleb can't close his eyes without seeing the flames.Molly takes him away from it all, for just a little while.





	Static

The night they defeated the Manticore, Caleb traveled home in silence.  
Since his kill, since the influx of memories, he’d just… zoned out. Completely lost all mental presence.  
Static.  
  
Molly’s concern came first, but with the responsibility of carvery, and people relying on him, he could do little more than give the wizard a brief kiss and sweep off.  
Beau worried too, though it didn’t register amongst the static in his brain at the time, and she was not quite able to express her concern, or comfort him.  
Nott had never been good at emotional comfort. She knew, of course, the majority of his history. She had seen him at his worst, and her amber eyes followed him as Beau hauled him to his feet, as Molly settled a hand at his waist, gentle atop the wound where the arrow had pierced him.  
Nott was someone that valued her personal space- ironic, considering how often she invaded others’- and so she usually slept in her own bed. The comedic appearance of such a small creature in a full sized bed usually cheered Caleb, at least to a dim smile.  
It didn’t thar evening. He stared, unseeing, and she looked up at him from her bed- he sensed her reluctance, but in the end she chose him.  
She always does.  
The night they defeated the Manticore, Nott curled her back against his to sleep.

She insisted on the wall side, the sense of security having Caleb between her and the others preferable to trapping Caleb in. She’s seen him when he has nightmares.  
The room was dark, the celebrations have been long, and as far as Caleb could tell, everyone was asleep. He would make the assessment even if he wasn’t numb, the room was silent, there were no lights. He waited, time trickling past, and every time he closed his eyes fire licked at the inside of his eyelids, so he opened them again.  
  
After the fourth or fifth time this happened, his eyes flashed open, and met the glint of red across from him.  
  
Mollymauk was awake, and he was watching Caleb intently, his hands tucked like a pillow under his cheek. He blinked at Caleb for a moment, then slipped upright, patting the covers behind him down over Fjord. He stood, completely silent, and stretched, and Caleb was momentarily drawn from his mental static by the shock of Molly without his ridiculous coat on. He was sure he’d seen it before, but this time, it registered.  
Molly lowered his arms again, then held a hand out to Caleb invitingly. If it wasn’t for Nott, he would have scrambled up immediately, but it was partly the goblin and partly his fog that forced him to slide out slowly. He winced at the bandages under his shirt as the pushed against his skin, the arrow wounds on either side of his body patched up well- Jester’s skill- but still sore.  
  
He stood, and Molly began to lower his hand.  
  
In almost a panic, Caleb reached out to grab him, and Molly almost started.  
He stepped in close, and Caleb shuddered as Molly’s breath ghosted over his neck and ear,  
  
“Do you want to go for a walk?”  
  
Caleb nodded feverently, and Molly gave him the most gentle smile Caleb had ever seen,  
  
“I’ll leave a note, get your coat.” and as he went to let go of Caleb’s hand, the wizard tightened his grip once more. Molly gave a breathy laugh, “I’ll hold your hand when we’re done, I promise.”  
Caleb let go.  
  
They weren’t even out of the door before their hands were clasped again. This time, though, it was Molly that slipped his fingers between Caleb’s, and they turned a corner in silence.  
  
“There’s time for that later.” Caleb quoted dimly, his only anchor to the physical realm the white-hot contact between himself and Molly.  
  
“Later can be now.” Molly replied, voice soft, “Later can be whenever you’re ready.”  
  
Caleb tried to process, tried to access the memories he’d vaulted so carefully. His brain, in a response of what he assumed was panic, locked him out. No access to anything, including most feelings.  
  
“Whenever I’m ready.” He echoed, and Molly squeezed his hand in understanding.  
  
“Why don’t we head to the forest?”  
  
“Doesn’t smell like smoke.” Caleb answered vaguely, and Molly understood this as a ‘yes.’

 

He couldn’t remember how they ended up in the tree, but given how piss poor Caleb was at athletics at the best of times… he could only assume Molly had carried him, or pulled him up there.  
The tiefling leaned his back against the trunk of a solid oak, the lights of Alfield visible dimly through the leaves. Caleb sat, a distance from Molly at first, but once he realised where he was, he started to… drift. Slowly, until his head rested on Molly’s shoulder, and he could feel each intake of breath. Molly looped his arms around Caleb, gentle and reassuring.  
  
“When you’re ready.” He told him, “I’ll listen. And until then, I’m here.” And he planted a kiss to the top of Caleb’s scraggled ginger head, let Caleb lull against him.  
Caleb closed his eyes and slept.

 

Morning light was filtering down when he opened his eyes again, and the first thing he saw was Molly, chin on chest, his eyes closed. At the first stirring of Caleb, though, Molly’s red eyes opened, and he smiled. The panic welling up in Caleb’s throat bubbled indignantly, then died away.  
  
“Morning.” Molly greeted, and let his arms unwind from the wizard, allowing him to sit up.  
  
“Morning.” Caleb replied dully, blinking and rubbing the night from his eyes. All he could remember from his dreams was the smell of lavender, and a darkness that was comforting rather than terrifying. Then, “Nott.” he said suddenly, and Molly leaned over to rest a hand on his arm,  
  
“She’ll be fine, it’s still early. She has Jester if she does wake up.” And Caleb relaxed a little,  
  
“We should go back now, though.”  
  
“Now there’s a wise choice.”

  
Molly swung himself down the tree gracefully, with almost feline movements, and looked up to Caleb expectantly. Caleb looked down and swallowed, and Molly chuckled at him.  
  
“You’re not that high, Caleb.”  
  
“High enough.” Caleb snipped at him, and shuffled to the tree trunk. Tentatively, he began to slide himself down, and when he lost his grip he found himself landing on Mollymauk.  
  
They walked back into the town apart.  
Molly looked at him from the corner of his eye, expression unreadable, and after a minute or two of silence, Caleb stopped and turned.  
  
“What?”  
  
Molly stopped too, turned to look at him. He let a few long seconds of silence stretch, and then… yawned. Loudly. Caleb’s irritation dispersed, and concern took over.  
  
“Mollymauk, did you sleep at all?”  
  
“No,” Molly admitted, “I thought it was best I stay awake, in case you needed me, and to make sure nothing happened.” and Caleb’s brow furrowed, somewhere between annoyance and worry. Molly rebuked this with a smile, and ran a hand down Caleb’s rumpled sleeve.  
  
“You should have woken me to take a watch.” Caleb’s pulse lightened, a dizzying feeling,  
  
“You needed the sleep.” Molly’s fingers lingered at the cuff of the coat. He glanced at his own fingertips to see them trembling, and this was enough to break him. Molly took a quick step in, and wrapped Caleb in a hug so tight, Caleb could just about breathe. He returned it almost unconsciously, a need he hadn’t realised he had in the contact.  
Molly couldn’t understand it. It wasn’t like Nott, who had almost died. It wasn’t like the first time Molly had seen Caleb go down- and the memory of that alone was horrifying. Caleb hadn’t died, hadn’t even been too close to death, but instead, he had just… disappeared. Into himself, into the memories, and Molly understood because he knew the sensations. The static wall like thick wool between the mind and the real world. The dulling of the senses, but the oversensitivity.  
Caleb buried his head in the tall collar of Molly’s coat and breathed deep, the hint of lavender incense over the smoke and dirt that stayed deeper.  
Molly screwed his eyes closed, and found himself… crying. Just a little.  
  
“I’m here.” He told him gruffly. Caleb drew back at the words, and for a moment Molly was terrified he’d overstepped an unspoken boundary, with the hug, with the sentiment, with his feelings-  
  
Caleb kissed him. _Caleb_ kissed _him_. Caleb _kissed_ him.  
  
The sentence, the idea rolled like thunder for an instant of a second following the lightning of sensation, and then he pulled himself from the storm of his own mind back to the physical world to draw his hand up to Caleb’s face and brush a thumb across his cheekbone.  
When they parted, Molly smirked,  
  
“Ah, I was wondering what you’d replace the hand holding with.”  
  
Caleb managed a dull laugh, twined his fingers with the front of Molly’s coat.  
  
“I wouldn’t be adverse to that either, but we really should return now.”  
  
Molly ran his hand down from Caleb’s cheek to his hand, and slipped his fingers between Caleb’s.  
  
“That’s an excellent idea.” he said, his smile gentle, and he leaned in to press a brief kiss to Caleb’s lips, the final second of time in their bubble before Molly led Caleb back to the room the same way he had led him away.  
By the hand.


End file.
